Random Scribbles · writing

Wagon’s Ho!


Photo courtesy of Barbara W. Beacham
Photo courtesy of Barbara W. Beacham

“Where did they go?”

“They moved on.”

“Who were they? What happened?”

“They were settlers heading west, lured by the promises of adventure, and abundant land. They were an armada of prairie schooners. Their wagon master was Skip Larson, you’ve heard of Colonel Larson; everyone has.

“Anyway, this was dangerous territory so when they stopped here for the night they circled the wagons and Larson told the pilgrims that they would move on when the wind died down.”

“Who built that then, if they headed out right away?”

“Reckon that they didn’t leave as quickly as that. You might have noticed it’s a bit windy ‘round here. Yeah, we figure that they were here for 15 years or more. As the canvas rotted on their wagons they built this big shelter and lived together in it till the wind died down.

“It might have been the first commune in Arizona.”